Bitten
by Ms Malfoy2
Summary: Hermione has been bitten. Through the perrils of discoverying who and what she is, will she be able to find someone that can heal her wounds? Will that one person be the one that inflicted it upon her in the first place?
1. Bitten

**Hope you like it! Please read and REVIEW : )**

**Disclaimer: Do you really think I wouldn't have published this if I owned HP? (lol)**

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_Chapter 1: Bitten_

She looked up into his eyes, noticing a mysterious gleam in them. He stepped closer to her, making her give him a curious look. As he wraped his arm around her waist, her curiosity turned into bewilderment. But she did not pull away to his surprise, but instead gazed at him in wonderment.

"Wha—" she started.

"Shh," he interrupted, putting his index finger to his mouth, then continued by brushing her chocolate curls off of her neck.

"Please," she said, finally realizing what he was doing as he leaned in closer.

"It's okay," he cooed soothingly, leaning in and kissing her sweetly on the top of her neck, then following it with a trail of light kisses.

When he planted another kiss down toward her collarbone, a wave of fear swept over her, telling her to step away from him. Pulling her neck away from his lips, she gazed into his eyes once more. She saw a hungry look in his eyes, as if she were his prey, but then as she looked deeper, shewas a great sadness, that looked as if it was eating away at his very soul.

"What? Why ar—" she asked confused.

"Don't worry. It's okay," he interrupted once more.

She wanted to believe him, but she had a nagging feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong. _'Why was he doing this? What was he doing? How could his opinion of her change so quickly? Where had the boy that she had known for so long, gone? What was happening?'_ But as he again kissed her on her neck, all her questions and fears had vanished, along with herbetter judgment.

Planting another trail of light kisses on her neck, as he inconspicuously stepped on the tips of her toes.

"Wha—" she began, noticing the slight weight on her toes, and his tighter grip around her waist. He stared at her few a few moments until he once again continued, placing an unseen wand back into his robe pocket.

"It's okay," he lied, knowing full well that it wasn't, but feeling truly bad about it, and again leaned in toward her neck.

Letting him kiss her again, she felt the sweet touch of his lips vanish, as they were replacedby a strong piercing pain, where his lips had been, moments before. She tried to scream in agony, but her voice wouldn't allow it, choked back by an unknown force; she tried to pull away, but his sturdy gripencircling her waist was unsurpassible in her present state; she tried to kick him, but his feet were uncharacteristically on hers. She was helpless. The only one that could have saved her was the boy in front her, inflicting this great pain upon her.

She could feel herself becoming weaker, her blood being drawn from her body into another's. For with every gulp of blood, she became weaker, and he became stronger, until darkness enveloped her.

Taking his lasttaste of her blood, he finally removed his bloodstained lips from her veins, and looked upon the girl in his arms, pity in his eyes, at what he had done.

Finally tearing his eyes from her, he picked her up and laid her gently on the black leather couch next to them.

"I'm sorry, my sweet Hermione," he whispered barely audible, planting a kiss on her forehead. "Sleep well. For you are not dead; you have merely been bitten."

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**A/N: did you like it? Please review hope I kept you in the shadows enough for you to want more. Sorry if the setting was a bit confusing but it will be explained in greater detail in a future chapter (in a flashback to be precise). I've written up to chapter 5, so i'm going to submit one at a time at about 5 day intervals probably : D**


	2. What's Happening to Me?

**Disclaimer: I OWN HARRY POTTER! yeah right, and also have 5 heads...**

**Hope you like this chappy**

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_Chapter 2: What's Happening to Me_

Hermione woke the next morning in a cold sweat. _'That was the scariest dream I have ever had in my life,'_ she thought thinking about the recent nightmare that had just occurred. _'Thank Merlin it was just a dream, well nightmare,'_ she added, stretching and then finally opening her eyes, greeted by a bright light. When her eyes finally gained focus, she looked around in confusion. _'What am I doing on the couch?'_ she asked herself perplexed. She shrugged it off, just thinking than she probably fell asleep on the common room couch after studying last night. After all, there was a stack of books, on the dark wood coffee table in front of her.

Swinging her feet off the couch, she decided to go get ready for the day. She walked up to the bathroom door, knocked, and when she heard no reply from her roommate, she walked in, absent-mindedly rubbing her eyes. Staring at the slick white marble floor, Hermione walked over to the sink, not bothering to look up at the mirror, she already knew how horrible she looked in the morning. She turned on the water, and stuck her hands under the icy fresh liquid, watching it splash onto the sides of the sink, finally scooping up some water and poring it onto her face. The sudden burst of cold water woke her up instantly, as she continued splashing water onto her face with her left hand, she groped for a fluffy black cloth with her other. Patting her face dry, she glanced quickly at the mirror to check her hair. Feeling satisfied with herself, she turned around, then noticed something out of the corner of her eye, then did a double take.

Pulling her hair way from the right side of her neck, she noticed two small gouges in the side of it. Getting closer to the mirror, she traced her fingers over the small cuts.

"What?" she said aloud, horrified. "What the—" she stammered, trying to think what could have possibly done that to her. Then it came to her.

"The dream," she whispered, putting her hand to her mouth, fear in her voice. "It couldn't possibly—" but it all fit. Waking up on the couch of the room she had been in her the dream, cuts on her neck, feeling really weak. "It can't be. No. I can't be a—a—a v—v—vampire," she said, trying to convince herself, but failing dismally. _'This can't happen. It couldn't be happening. THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING!'_ she thought insanely, still trying to figure out what was happening. "The Library!" she practically yelled, as the idea popped into her head.

She quickly pulled her hair down over her neck to cover the cuts, smoothed out her robes, that she still hadn't changed out of from the day before, then dashed out the bathroom door as quickly as she could without moving her hair too much._ 'There must be some sort of charm, or potion, something, to figure out if I'm a real vampire or not. Maybe there's something to reverse the, the, well incantation, well no, process of becoming a vampire. Oh, this cannot be happening!'_ she thought to herself, scurrying to the ever-so-reliable library, not really looking where she was going, for she had walked this path so many times in the past years.

As she quickened her steps, in anxiety, her head still swimming with thoughts, she ran straight into someone. Not being able to keep her balance from the blow, she wobbled a bit then started to fall, but just as she was about to hit the cold stone floors, she felt a strong hand grasp her around the shoulders. Looking up into her savior's eyes, her eyes were met with steal gray ones, which clashed dramatically with her own honey brown ones.

"Well if it isn't the head girl running through the halls, to get to her—boyfriend?" he sneered, still holding her in her arms.

"Jeer off, Malfoy," she spat, trying to break free of his grip, but he wouldn't let her go. "Let me go! Now!" she demanded, staring daggers at him.

"You may want to be a little nicer to me. I did just save your arse from a fair bit of pain," he replied coolly, still having a firm grip around her shoulder, tipping her back so that she would look into his eyes.

"Well, thanks for that, but I am in bit of a hurry. I MUST get to the library," she thanked hurriedly.

"What, got a test to study for, over winter i break /i ."

"No," she huffed, defensively.

"Then what, may I ask are you going there for?" he questioned, looking down at her. His eyes scanned her face, then they started to wonder down her body.

"Malfoy!"

"Hmm?" he asked, bringing his eyes back up to her face, but snapped back down to her neck.

_'Oh shit,'_ she thought as she realized what he was looking at then, started to squirm even more.

"When di—" he started, trying to sound off hand, but she caught the worry in it.

"I have to go," she said quickly, then pulled away from his grip with all her might, and walked swiftly down the hall, shouting back to him, "Thanks for catching me!"

Finally reaching her destination, the library, she inhaled deeply. Breathing, in her opinion, the best smell known to mankind: crisp paper, and oiled leather. She quickly shuffled over to one of the back rows, where she could hopefully find something useful on the transformation of vampires. She brushed her finger along the spines of the books, reading the book titled at random. "… 'Venezuelan Runes: A Time of Darkness'…'Venetian Times: A Lost Civilization'… No. I need 'vampire'. V-A…V-A…V-A…V-A! 'Valerie Isabel Smelthing: A biography,' that should be under 'S'…never mind…no…vampires…vampires…vampires! 'Vampires: A Guide To Self-Defense.' No, I don't want to defend myself from myself. 'Vampires: Bitten.' Yes! I'll take this one," she muttered to herself, taking the book from the vas variety of leather-bound books. She traced the cover with her hand, admiring the craftsmanship. The deep brown red covering seemed so old, as did the pages, that seemed to have faded yellow due to the age of the book. 'I love old books like this,' she thought, taking in every detail of the book's cover, from the tiny crevasses to the beautiful gold lettering stating the title and author. 'Okay Hermione, no time to be admiring ancient books. You must look for more!' she scolded herself mentally. She then went back to the shelves and began searching for more books that may help her in some way, shape, or form. Within a few minutes she had a large stack of books, that were some how related to vampires, balanced on her arm. She walked over to a nearby table, sat down hastily, grabbed the closest book to her, and plunged right into it, taking in every bit of information.

" '…a person who has been bitten by a vampire, is considered a half-breed,'" she read aloud. "Not much different from the wizarding world. Hmm," she said thoughtfully.

"What isn't?" came a voice from behind her, that made her jump. She knew that voice. But she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I said, what isn't like the wizarding world," the voice asked snidely.

"None of your business," she replied curtly, finally figuring out whose voice it belonged to.

"Manners, Granger, manners," drawled the voice.

"WHAT, do you want, Malfoy?" she spat. Was he trying to get on her last nerve?

"Is it a crime to walk into the library, and start a friendly conversation with a classmate?" Malfoy questioned.

"No," she answered truthfully.

"Then I'm just going to sit hear and read," he pulled out the chair next to her, and was about to reach for one of the books in her pile, when she slapped his hand away with a swift movement of her palm, and slammed her other hand onto the pile of books, protectively.

"A bit protective, aren't we?" he sneered.

"I'm going back to the common room, and don't you dare follow me!" she collected all her books and exited the library.

He stared at the door, where she had just been a moment before. 'She's got issues,' he thought to himself finally shifting his eyes back onto the table. 'Hmm…A book Granger left on the table. What ever shall I do with it?" he asked himself sarcastically, "Return it to her like a good little boy…or…' he snatched up the book and read the title aloud. " 'So, You Think You Are a Vampire? By R. Striden.' Weird title." He let the book drop open in front of him, where he came upon a few loose pieces of parchment, with notes scratched upon them. " 'If you are—bi'—what does that say? Oh, 'bitten by a vamp. Then you will start transforming into a part vampire within a few'—something—'from when you were first bitten.' Horrible handwriting," he flipped over the parchment and read another line, " 'Transformation process: skin gets paler, eyes grow grayer, teeth grow sharper, hair becomes drastically lighter or drastically darker, depending.' interesting," he read aloud. "Seems like Little Miss Perfect has finally used as ignorant as I thought. Let's go see what she is doing right now." He snapped the book closed, jumped up, and glided toward the door.

When he finally reached the Head's common room door, he was slightly out of breath. "Password?" asked the elderly lady who was knitting a putrid yellow colored cardigan.

"Le lion et le Serpent," he recited before he was aloud admittance. "Why McGonagall let Granger choose the password is beyond me. And in French too. 'The Lion and the Serpent,' well I guess it could be worse," he muttered to himself, as he walked through the short hall that lead to their shared common room.

Finally reaching the common room, he looked around it for the millionth time. Even though he had seen it so many times, he always found himself in awe at the beautiful vaulted ceilings, and extensive wall of books, that was his and Hermione's own personal library. He found the shimmering silver walls, so mesmerizing, the way the afternoon light danced around playfully. He walked over to the lounging area, and sat down on the squishy leather chaise that sat between two other charcoal leather chairs. He set Hermione's book down on the knee height mahogany table, thinking that he could give it to her later.

As he stared into the blazing fire that lay peacefully in its grate, he heard a noise from behind. Instinctively he whipped out his wand and pointed it at his assailant, but what he was no murderer, but a very ill looking Hermione in her pajamas. Her hair lay lank in her face, her eyes a very dull gray brown, and her skin as white as a ghost.

"Are you okay?" Malfoy asked unsure.

"I—I don't feel so good," she whispered taking a few steps down the deep red staircase, clutching onto the deep wood railing with all her might. She looked faint, as if she would pass out any moment.

"Okay," he said walking over to her and offered her a helping hand. She looked at him suspiciously, trying to figure out if he was actually trying to help. Finally she took his hand, slightly reluctantly at first, but then clutched onto him trying to keep her balance.

He wrapped his arm around her waist and guided her over to the couch, as she clutched onto the front of his robes. He gently helped her onto the couch, grabbed a pillow and put it behind her head. "Thank you," she barely managed to say, putting herself at his mercy.

Draco then lifted her legs onto the couch, putting her into a lying position. "I think it's just best that you rest right now. I'll get you a cool towel and some soup," he whispered to her, as he walked over to their small kitchen, grabbed a towel and ran it under some cool water. Wringing it out slightly, he got to thinking._'I'm helping Hermione Granger. Mudblood Granger.'_ But for some reason he didn't care, for he knew if he was in her position, she would do the same for him. He finished wringing out the towel, folded it a few times, then walked quietly toward Hermione and rested the towel on her forehead. He watched her, as she lifted her hand onto it, closing her eyes, as she took a long soothing breath.

"Thank you," she repeated, barely audible. Still not opening her eyes, she swung her legs off the couch and leaned her head back against the top of the couch. She felt so sick; her stomach ached in a way she had never experienced. A hungry feeling, she was craving something, but couldn't quite put her finger on it at the moment, for the pain in her head and teeth was too great.

She again took another deep breath, trying to get the pain out of her mind, when she felt a sagging in the couch next to her. She finally opened her eyes and found Malfoy staring at her with slight concern in his eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me," she said quietly.

"We'll figure it out soon enough," he replied soothingly, patting her kindly on the knee.

"Thank you," she gratified, once more. She swung her legs off the couch trying to get a hold of herself, but the moment she did, Hermione immediately regretted it as her vision became blurred, and she became very light headed. "Whoa," she exclaimed quietly, as she put both hands to her head, trying to steady herself.

"Are you okay?" he inquired, voice full of concern, as he gently place a hand on her shoulder.

"I just feel s—so—odd," she finished faintly, as her hands began to shake.

"What's happening?" she stuck out her right hand in front of her, watching it move involuntarily.

"I don't know," he whispered back, grabbing her hand firmly. "You're so cold." Draco said, caressing her hand. "I'll get you a blanket. Hold on just one moment." He whipped out his wand, muttered an incantation, and instantly a folded feather comforter appeared on the table in front of them. Leaning forward he grabbed the blanket, then wrapped it snuggly around Hermione.

"Thank you," she whispered once again, truly genuine. She then did something he would never expect her to do; she leaned up against his shoulder and closed her eyes, placing complete trust in him.

"Your quite welcome," he whispered in her ear, stroking her hair gently. "Sleep well, my dear Hermione, for you have been bitten, and I will always be in your debt for doing so." He finished, by placing yet another kiss on her forehead, but not until he knew that she had dozed off completely.

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**Please do the "review" part of "read and review" because I hope you already did the "read" part : )**

**xoxo Ms Malfoy2**


	3. Finding Out

**Chapter 3**

** _Finding Out_**

Hermione awoke the next morning, as she felt a cool breeze tickle her neck. She opened her eyes slowly and was greeted with the same black leather she had awoken to just 24 hours ago. "Not again," she moaned. She picked herself up from the seat of the plush leather couch and was welcomed by a sweet smell of home cooking. "Mmm," she commented, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "What's that smell?"

"Morning, hun!" came a cheerful voice, from the Head's miniature kitchen. "How 'bout some breakfast?"

"Whattimeisit?" she mumbled.

"Bout nine-thirty, hun," he answered merrily. "Come on, I made waffles, and I cut up some fruit. You do like strawberries, don't you?"

'How'd he know that I like strawberries?' she thought to herself.

"Please, hun. I made it especially for you," came the ever so joyful voice of Draco Malfoy.

"Fine," she agreed, as the smell of fresh strawberries and waffles danced around her nose, "as long as you stop calling me 'hun'. "

"Okay, love," he replied snidely, as he plastered his famous smirk onto his face.

"Not funny,"

"Please," he pouted, giving her a childish puppy dogface.

"Fine, lemme just go wash my face. I'm still not awake," she grumbled, stepping off the couch and onto the intricate Parisian carpet.

"Me and this fabulous meal will be awaiting you, luv," he bowed deeply.

She slowly dragged her feet toward the door of the bathroom trying to ignore Draco's pet name for her. Coming upon the ornately carved white wooden door, she limply prodded it open, so she could enter. As she stepped onto the shiny white marble tile, a shiver ran down her spine. 'Cold,' she thought, indicating the cool floor.

She reached the sink, stared at the knob for a few seconds, wishing it would turn itself on, and then finally lifted her tired arm to it. Hermione let out a long breath, stuck her cupped hands under the icy cascade of water, and then dunked her face into her palms, waking herself up instantly. She blindly reached for a towel with her right hand, as she turned the faucet off with the other. Patting her forehead, then her nose and cheeks, then finally she came upon her mouth and chin; she was just about to finish drying off her face, when a sharp pain hit her bottom lips.

"Ow," she exclaimed, bringing her free hand to her mouth. She slowly brought her hand down to where she could see it, and found a smidgen of scarlet liquid. "Blood. What could I cut myself on?" she questioned the empty room. She finally lifted her eyes toward the mirror in front of her.

**Gasp**

What she saw looking back at her was not something she could have ever expected (well maybe, if she had been noticed all the signs). What she saw in the mirror was not a great way to start the day…at all, for the reflection was not her own. In fact it was no one's at all.

The reflection Hermione saw in the mirror was none other than the marble bathroom that lay behind her at that very moment. "No," she whispered, putting her hand on the mirror. "My reflection. It's gone! It can't be gone! No! Mirror, please don't be playing tricks on me!" she pleaded, lightly tapping the mirror with both hands now. Then it hit her, and she stopped rattling the mirror.

"If I have no reflection, then I am definitely a—"

"—vampire," a voice from behind finished for her.

She gazed into the mirror, trying to see the reflection of the person who had just spoken.

"You won't find my reflection in that thing either," the voice continued from right next to her ear.

She quickly turned around and came face to face with the most gorgeous eyes she had every laid eyes on. 'Gorgeous eyes,' she thought dreamily.

"Are you a—a—a vampire too?" she stammered, as he snaked his hands around her waist. 'Duh,' Hermione thought to herself. 'He has no reflection either, so he is obviously a friggin vampire!'

"Oui, l'amour," he answered flirtatiously.

"'Yes, love.' French, impressive," she repeated, in a tone that was so casual they may have been speaking of the weather. 'Wait! I'm wrapped in the arms of a vampire, and I'm telling him that he is impressive. Hermione you're going mad!' she screamed in her head. 'Oh wait, I'm a vampire too!' she screamed in her head, once again.

"Your turn to impress me," the beautiful eyed boy said.

"Pourquoi voudrais-je vous impressionner ?" she asked. ((for those who don't know French I will put the English translations in :)) :Why would I want to impress you:

"Because you are not one to back down from a challenge," he answered pulling her closer as he said 'challenge.'

"Oui, pas mal. Pour quelqu'un qui ne sait pas mon nom," she whispered seductively. :Yes, not bad. For someone who does not even know my name: 'Why am I acting so…forward?' she asked herself, wondering where her sudden knack for flirting came from.

"Non, je sais votre nom. Mademoiselle Hermione Anne Granger," he breathed in her ear, just as seductively. :No, I do know your name. Miss Hermione Jane Granger:

He tightened his grip around her waist, and sealed the small amount of space between the two, his lips meeting her own.

His lips moved gracefully with hers, in perfect sync, pulling her even closer, making the kiss even more passionate than before.

'Damn fine kisser,' she thought closing her eyes, as she let him gain entrance into her mouth, tongues entwining romantically.

Every move he made, she mimicked just as well. It was as if their mouths had acquired minds of their own, doing as they please with the others' ((others' lips and tongues, that is)).

RED ALERT, RED ALERT flashed across Hermione's mind. 'Must—stop—kissing!' she thought to herself, snapping her eyes open.

She tried to pull back, but he just moved with her. She squeezed his arm sharply trying to get her point across, but he just squeezed her closer to him. 'Can he just get the point! Being straight forward is the best way, I guess.'

"Stjpt," she blurted through the tangle of tongues and lips.

"Hmm?" he questioned, pulling away, but still keeping a firm grip around her waist.

"Malfoy!"

"Mmhmm?"

"You can't just do that," she whispered indignantly.

"What, my sweet?" he blinked innocently.

"Just start snogging me."

"Why not?"

"Because—because," she tried to think of a good enough reason, "because you didn't ask!"

"Well I wouldn't mind being kissed without you asking me," he said nicely.

"Well that's not who I am."

"Was," he corrected.

"No, 'am.'"

"No, I don't think so," he debated.

"And why 'don't you think so'?"

"Well, for one thing, you don't look the same,"

"How?" she asked stubbornly.

"Look," he pointed at the mirror behind her.

"Can't," she whispered, turning her gaze away from his face toward the ground.

"Oh, yeah," he said with a half smile. "Forgot that you're like me now," he whispered.

"Well, I certainly didn't!" she told him defiantly.

"Yes, well, anyway," he cleared his throat. "Uh, I was telling you—how you aren't the same person," he changed the subject.

"Yes?"

"Well, look at your hair," he said finally letting go of her waist and lifting up her hair so she could see it.

"My hair!" she exclaimed. "It's—it's—black!"

"At least it isn't blonde. That would be weird," he said off hand.

"My hair!" she whispered, still in shock, as she looked at the strand of hair in her hand.

"It changes—"

"It's black!"

"when you—"

"And straight!"

"—are—"

"And BLACK!"

"—bitten."

"My Nails!" she wailed, as she caught glimpse of her, now, very long and very sharp nails.

"And your eyes," he pointed out.

"My eyes!" she gasped. "What about my eyes?" she asked almost furiously.

"They're," he took a deep breath, "gray."

"GRAY!" she screamed. "My eyes are gray!"

"Uh—" he stammered not wanting her to hit him with are long talons, "yes?"

Hermione whipped around, her back to him, and covered her face with her hands. "This cannot be happening, this cannot be happening," she repeated over and over, sounding like she was on the verge of tears.

He watched her closely, sympathy in his eyes. 'Why did I have to put her through this?' he asked himself. 'Grr, I'm so selfish!' he scolded himself. He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of a light sniff.

Draco walked silently over to where she was standing, and cautiously rested a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. She shuddered, but did not withdraw herself from his touch, so he brought his other hand to her shoulder. He noticed that her cries became more pronounce, so her turned her around and laid her head against his chest, stroking her hair nonchalantly.

"Why?" Hermione questioned, snapping her tear stained eyes toward his.

He gave her a quizzical look.

"Why did you?"

"Do what?" he asked trying to conceal his nervousness.

"Why did you bite me?" she repeated once more.

He looked at her for what seemed like an eternity, his eyes boring into hers, then spoke, "I—I—I don't know how to answer that," he finished faintly.

"Fine," she said curtly, wiped her eyes of remaining tears, and stormed out of the bathroom.

"Hermione!" he yelled after her, following in her wake.

He caught up to her right before she entered the small hallway and grabbed her forearm.

"No!" she said sternly, trying to push him away. "Let go!" "Not until we talk about this," he said, forcing his voice to stay calm.

"Okay, fine!" she said flustered flailing her free arm in the air. "You bit me, for some, probably egotistical reason, I became a vampire, now I am a vampire and its entirely YOUR fault!" she yelled hysterically.

"I—I," he stuttered, "I'm—"

"Your what?" she screamed. "An idiot? Sure! A selfish little prick who decided that it would be fun to turn a little mudblood into a vampire? Well if the shoe fits!" she bellowed still struggling against his grip.

"That wasn't me!"

"Who was it? YOUR EVIL TWIN?"

"I didn't—"

"—want to!" she finished. "What? Were you possessed?"

"No."

"Were you drunk?"

"No."

"Then it must have been a bet—"

"You have to—"

"—with your other vampire friends! Who can bite the most people? Who could transform the most people into vampires?"

"No," he whispered, barely moving his lips, fury in his eyes.

"THEN WHAT?"

"Can we just talk about this rationally?" he pleaded.

She just stared at him, gave one more futile pull away from him, then sighed.

"Fine."

He glared at her for a second, making sure that she was actually agreeing, then slowly let go of her arm.

"Thank you," she gratified, messaging her arm that now had a slight red mark.

Draco stared at her arm for a second, "Sorry," he managed to whisper hollowly.

"Whatever Malfoy," she retorted coldly, passing by him, and plopping down on the couch. He followed.

"Why did—" she stopped short, a low grumble came from her stomach. "Oh,

excuse me."

"Here," he took out his wand, swirled it a few times, muttered an incantation and

seconds later a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and light fluffy toast appeared on the table in

front of them.

"Thanks," she whispered her thanks.

"Yea," he muttered, resting his head in the palms of his hands.

She took out her own wand and conjured a knife and fork, then began eating with

gusto. Once she was finished she set down her knife and fork with a clatter, as she wiped

her mouth clean with a napkin. Hermione then focused her attention back on Draco, who

had had his head in his hands the whole time she was eating, obviously deeply immersed

in thought.

She cleared her throat quietly, which made him look up, looking wary and tired.

"You still have not told me why you bit me," she muttered, not making eye contact, but

instead stared at the rug beneath her feet.

"Yes, well, I guess I should te—" he stopped and stared at Hermione's stomach

that had once again made a grumbling sound.

She stared down at her stomach. "What's—"

"You're hungry," he answered before she could finish her sentence.

"I just ate a whole plate of food," she responded bewildered.

"No. You're hungry," he mimicked. When she still gave him a questioning look he continued, "Lust."

"Excuse me?"

"That's what it's called when you are hungry. Hungry for blood."

**Sorry it took so long to update!**

**Sorry if it ended so abruptly, I wanted to update!**

**I AM ETERNALLY GRATEFUL TO ALL REVIEWERS hint hint cough cough nudge nudge wink wink**


	4. A skirt some boots and one tremendous

Previously "No. You're hungry," he mimicked. When she still gave him a questioning look he continued, "Lust."

"Excuse me?" hermione

"That's what it's called when you are hungry. Hungry for blood.

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**CHAPTER 4: A SKIRT, SOME BOOTS, AND ONE TREMENDOUS LUST**

"For blood?" Hermione gulped.

"I just said that," he answered testily.

"Are you sure?" she asked nervously at the thought of drinking someone's blood.

"Yes."

"Um," she now had an image in her head of a boy's body laying face down in the

forest, with blood oozing from its neck, but the more she thought about it the more the

image started to please her.

An evil smile recoiled from her lips. "Blood."

Draco mimicked her with an equally evil smirk.

"Let's go," she whispered, standing up from that ever so familiar leather couch.

"You want to wear that?" he asked, looking down at her small pajama shorts and tank top.

"Oh, hold on,"

"No need, I'll do it,"

She stared at him suspiciously, then thought of blood, and how much quicker it would be if he just dressed her.

"Okay fine," she finally said. "But not too far out there," she warned.

"Not too," he answered whipping out his wand, his face still harboring an evil grin.

He pondered for a second, then finally muttered something inaudible.

She felt her shirt grow tighter around her torso, as it grew longer down her arms, all the while feeling her shorts turn into a skirt and grow tighter and thicker, but not the least bit longer. She felt a slight weight on her ears and neck as jewelry appeared, while the weight of her hair lifted, being pulled up into a bun with a thick ribbon. She then felt a tight gripping feeling on her lower legs as she felt herself grow taller as high heel boots magiced themselves onto her feet. She stared at Malfoy a little bit angry who was still waving his wand about her body, adding a few more things.

"Not quite," he muttered more to himself than to her.

She felt a little bit of weight on her waist, where a thick black belt had just appeared.

"Not quite," he repeated once again, then pointed his wand at her left hand.

She stared at him for a second, then felt one last piece of jewelry appear on her left ring finger. She glimpsed down at her outfit and the first thing she noticed was the spectacular ring on her left hand. Fingering it she noticed the ornately decorated silver band than was inlayed with a single black onyx gem surrounded by tiny white diamonds.

"Draco," she whispered in awe, "It's beautiful," she finished holding it up to the light, watching it glimmer in the morning sun.

"Traditional Malfoy ring, as well as the earrings and the necklace," he stated smugly.

"Well they are all beautiful," she stated, now noticing the onyx necklace that lay on her neck.

"And the rest?" he questioned, reminding her of the rest of his creation.

She looked down at the rest of her body and noticed that he was a definite fan of black. Her tight black top and skirt were both made of what she thought was snakeskin and shined in the natural light. 'Whore-ish' was the first thing that popped into her head as she continued looking down at her body and came across high heeled boots made with the same black leather.

"Let me guess," she began, " you like black snake skin."

"You're very observant," he muttered, smirking, as he took a step closer to her examining his work. "I think I did pretty well, if I do say so myself," he grabbed her hand and spun her around lightly, taking in each and every one of her precious curves. "You look hot."

"You're very observant," Hermione mimicked his words.

"Well I am a Malfoy," he continued as he snaked his hand around her now snakeskin covered waist ((haha…little joke there)) and started to lead her toward the door.

"Um, Draco."

"Yes."

"It's about 20 degrees outside," she pointed toward the window.

"Oh yes," he said remembering that it was mid-December. He pulled his wand out once again, whispering yet another spell and a long black suede coat appeared around her, trimmed with thick black fur at the neckline and cuffs. 'He's got good taste in fashion. Hmm?' she pondered. 'No.'

"Okay, lets go," he finally said.

"Question," she stated, once again stopping him in his tracks.

"Yes?" he asked trying not to sound too impatient.

"How am I supposed to go out and hunt in this?"

"Don't worry, luv, I'll do everything for you, all you have to do is drink," he winked, and led her to the portrait door.

'Again with the pet names.' She rolled her eyes inconspicuously. 'Sounds kinda nice actually.' She began to smile.

"What are you smiling about?" came Draco's voice from beside her.

"Oh nothing," she answered trying to conceal her smile.

"If you say so," he smiled at her.

'He's got a hot smile,' she thought to herself as she caught sight of his pearly whites. 'Draco Malfoy hot? Did I just think that? Hmm. I guess I did. Well he is.' She smiled again at the thought of admitting that Draco was hot.

As they continued to stroll through the cold corridors, Hermione started to receive a few awkward stares from passer biers, followed by a series of low whispers. Most were of a look of mild interest, particularly from the male population, but some even of outrage that she would go out dressed like that (mainly from the girls). Shifting herself uncomfortably in Draco's arms, she let him know that she felt a bit awkward with all the people staring and whispering.

"We're almost there," he whispered soothingly in her ear, as they reached the Great Hall where they would exit the castle. He squeezed her side affectionately.

"Okay," she acknowledged, she walked gracefully next to him to the end of the hallway, not faltering in her step once. 'I'm getting pretty good at this high heeled thing,' she congratulated herself for making it this far.

Just as Draco put his hand on the great oak doors, a voice from behind rang through the hall. "Well isn't it the Slytherin king and his little whore of the week," sounded the cruel voice.

Hermione stopped dead. She knew that voice. It had always been a comforting voice, until up until just a few days ago, but never had it called her someone's 'whore for the week.'

"Excuse me," she spat, spinning around on her heels so she could get a good look at her accuser.

"You heard me," came the harsh tone of her ex-best friend, Harry Potter.

"Don't talk to her like that, you good for nothing son of a bitch," Draco's valiant voice bellowed from beside her.

"Why? It's not like you treat her any better," he retorted.

"And you would now this how?" Hermione joined in coldly.

He ignored her.

"I believe she asked you a question," Draco said, while he snaked his arm around her waist.

"I don't respond to sluts," Potter answered.

Hermione's eyes grew wide in anger. She broke free from Draco's grip, marched straight up to Potter and slapped him good across the face.

He grabbed his cheek in pain.

"Bitch," he spat.

"I have a name," she whispered venomously.

"But I don't care."

SMACK!

She slapped him across the other cheek. Potter let go of his right cheek, as a new pain appeared on his other.

"What was that for?"

"For being a lying, sexist, egotistical, bigot," she answered.

He looked up into her eyes as she said that, recognizing her motto for what guys were after she broke up with them. " 'Mione?" Potter asked.

"It's Miss Granger to you, _Mister_ Potter," she finished, turned on her heels and walked back to Draco.

"Let's go," she stated, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door, but stopped right on the threshold, grabbed the back of Draco's head and kissed him passionately.

As they both began to lose their breath, Hermione pulled away, looked at Potter's dumbstruck face, and gave him the most evil grin she could muster. "Good bye 'Mione. Hello Hermione vampiress of Hogwarts," she whispered seductively in Draco's ear, and then led him out onto the cold Hogwarts grounds.

* * *

_For being a lying, sexist, egotistical, bigot _is from the movie Nine to Five 


	5. The Hunt

_previously_: As they both began to lose their breath, Hermione pulled away, looked at Potter's dumbstruck face, and gave him the most evil grin she could muster. "Good bye 'Mione. Hello Hermione, vampiress of Hogwarts," she whispered seductively in Draco's ear, and then led him out onto the cold Hogwarts grounds.

* * *

**CHAPTER 5 THE HUNT**

"That was quite an act you put on back there," Draco commented, as he and Hermione walked along the freshly shoveled path across the Hogwarts grounds.

"Yea," Hermione agreed quietly.

"What's wrong?" he questioned kindly, noticing the hint of sadness in her voice.

"N—nothing," she tried to say off hand while trying not to let him hear her sniffle.

"Is it really nothing?" he coaxed her, rubbing her arm affectionately from behind

"N—n," she started, trying not to let him see her cry.

"It's okay. I'm sure it is," he whispered soothingly into her ear, as he pulled her in closer.

Tears welled up behind her eyes, as she listened to what he was saying. Stopping, she looked up into his blue gray eyes, but almost immediately looked down, for she could not bear to think that he was looking into the same stony ones, that were now her own.

"It's going to be okay," he repeated, but not sounding so sure of it himself.

"No," she replied in a stronger, not to mention angrier voice than before. "Everything is not okay," she broke free of his gentile touch.

"Excuse me?" he asked perplexed.

"Ever since you bit me things have been horrible. I look like a freak, I lost my best friends—"

"Hey, you did that on your own," he defended.

Glaring at him with a 'don't-you-even-start-with-me' look, she continued, as she wiped away a few salty tears, "—I've lost all self dignity, I'm walking around like a slut, and now I'm going into the bloody forest to hunt God knows what," she finished hysterically.

"Don't you dare start blaming me for all your problems," he began with a whisper, venom in his voice, mirroring his crystal eyes. "Don't you dare… I did not inflict any of this upon you. You knew perfectly well what you were getting into when you let me kiss you the other night."

"Oh, really," she responded, her voice equally as venomous now. "I don't recall you ever telling me that you were going to bite me, suck my blood and turn me into a bloody vampire before I let you kiss me!" she finished staring daggers at him.

"Well, why'd you let me kiss you in the first place!" he screamed.

She stared at him, tears still streaming down her face, a pout upon her lips, venom in her eyes. She seemed to be recalling why she let him kiss her now. She suddenly remembered why she had been so upset.

**FLASHBACK**

_Hermione was making her way down the dark Hogwarts halls, making her usual rounds as Head Girl. Strolling light-heartedly down the fourth floor corridor, reminiscing her and Harry's blissful day together. They were having a snowball fight in the freshly fallen snow, the first snow of the season, and the last day before Harry, Ron, and Ginny would leave for the Burrow. They had laughed and giggled, chucking snowballs at Ron and Ginny until their fingers grew numb._

_Hermione smiled inwardly at their playful antics, remembering how carefree she felt with Harry. 'I love the snow,' she thought to herself. It had always brought her joy, especially this year, the year she and Harry finally started going out. It was like a dream some true. It seemed like every time she was with him, everything just turned out perfectly. Her worries would just melt away._

_She kept daydreaming, only vaguely aware of her surroundings, until she heard a high girlish giggle coming from an empty classroom. 'Great! Another couple making out,' she groaned inwardly and started off toward the room she guessed they were concealing them in. She walked quietly up to the door and heard the laughter once again. 'I hate this part!' she thought, as she reached for the handle. She then proceeded to open the door quickly, and started to recite the usual lecture she said to couples in empty rooms or closets. "Please, take your displays of affection to a more appropriate place and in a more appropriate manner," she began dully, not even looking at the couple in front of her, she then heard a gasp, and looked up. In front of her very own eyes was her best friend Ginny, red hair a mess, cascading over her shoulders and down her back; most of her blouse buttons undone and only one shoe on. She looked at her younger friend in a what-the-heck-are-you-doing-I'm-going to-have-to-report-you kind of way. Hermione decided that she could be dealt with and decided to see who the young "gentlemen" was that had been the source Ginny's affection could possibly be. Her eyes shifted a bit to Ginny's left (Hermione's right) and came across a raven-haired boy with emerald eyes sporting round spectacles. She stared at him in shock. 'Harry! My Harry!' she thought frantically, her eyes turning from soft to panicked to furious. His own shirt was undone all the way, revealing his strong torso and tight muscle shirt ((I'm not sure what the real thing is called, but many people refer to them as "wife beaters" but that just sounded a bit crass so I'm just gonna call it a muscle shirt))._

_Her eyes flashed at Ginny, who looked on the verge of tears._

_"I can't believe you Harry!" Hermione yelled._

_"Hermione, let me—" he started._

_"—explain," she finished for him, eyes ablaze. "Explain what! That you've been seeing me during the day and then doing God knows what with her at night! I can't believe you! Either one of you!" she shot at Ginny, just as she was about to say something._

_"Herms—"_

_"No Harry! We're over!" she bellowed, turned and ran as fast as she could back to the heads common room, eyes streaming with tears._

_She slammed herself onto the plush leather couch in front of the ornately decorated fireplace, brought her knees up to her face and began to sob. She had been crying for quite awhile before she heard someone come in through the portrait whole. Her eyes snapped up, and recognized the familiar silhouette of Draco Malfoy_

_She assumed he was just coming back from his duties, so she allowed herself to bring her head back down to her knees and cry silently. Once she thought he was gone, she began to weep more openly again, letting her whimpering become more prominent as she remembered her boyfriend, well now ex-boyfriend, and best friend had been doing._

_She suddenly heard a soft voice from somewhere across the room speak to her gently, "Are you—"_

_"No, I am not alright, would I be crying if I was?" she snapped._

_"Okay," the voice came slyly, "but I was going to ask you if you were going to use that pillow you were leaning against. Mine got torn up by some cat this morning, and I wanted to go to sleep."_

_"Oh," she said a bit embarrassed. "Here," she grabbed the pillow that was behind her, and started to walk over where Malfoy was standing. She handed it to him, and was about to walk away when she caught his gleaming eyes._

_His silvery eyes gleamed in the moonlight that streamed in through the high east facing windows. They were so mesmerizing, all she wanted to do was gaze into their mystical depths and become lost in them forever. She was drawn to him, but before she could step any closer, he stepped closer, as if reading her mind._

_He dropped the pillow from his hand and pulled her in, so that they were mere centimeters from each other. He twisted one arm around her waist and held her firmly. She pulled out of her trance like state and gave him a puzzled look. 'What the hell is he trying to pull?' asked the more logical side of her brain, 'Go with it,' said the more outgoing side of her brain. Surprisingly she listened, and did not pull away._

_She still had that lingering suspicion that he was up to something. "Wha—"_

_"Shh," he whispered, bringing a long slender finger to his lips, sweeping her cocoa colored ringlets away from her neck._

_'What the…' she thought utterly bewildered, but then it dawned on her, 'oh…wait no…Harry…too soon…can't…' "Please," she finally allowed herself to whisper._

_"It's okay," he soothed, his hot breath upon her neck. 'Ohh,' she closed her eyes and let him kiss her neck, caressing its every curve with his luscious lips._

_And it was all down hill from there. Fear. Lies. Kiss. Beautiful eyes. Kiss. Pain. Black._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

Hermione was still glaring at Draco, fear and anger behind her once chocolate eyes. The memory of the night before brought more tears to her eyes, gliding swiftly across her pale complexion. How could she trust him? He had just permanently damaged her life, and now she was going to take someone or something's blood, just like he had done to her. How could she bring that upon someone else, cause them the same pain she herself was going through right now? She didn't want to be the cause of someone's pain. 'No, I won't do it. I will not ruin someone else's life. No.' she told herself. 'I'll just ignore the cravings, eat rarer meats. I refuse to inflict this upon one more innocent creature. How could I have come with Draco? Horrible idea Hermione,' she scolded herself.

She shuffled her feet, and stared down at the black ring on her finger, "This was a bad decision to come with you," she stuttered, "I can't—"

"No. Listen to me," he lifted her head with his thumb and for-finger, forcing her to look into his eyes. "There is no such thing as a bad decision," he started wisely. "Just different ones. Ones that you are not used to. Ones that scare you because you are not accustomed to them, but listen to me Mi, do not be afraid of the unknown. Be afraid of the unknowing. Those who are too ignorant to give someone a chance."

All she could do was stare into his bold eyes, letting her silent tears stream down her face.

"Do you trust me?" he asked in a hushed voice.

She was silent for a moment, her head said 'NO NO NO' but somehow she couldn't tell him 'no.' After all, he was the only one that could truly help her. She hardened with determination. "Yes," she finally brought herself to say.

"Then trust me when I say that everything will be alright." He wiped a salty tear away from her misty gray eye with his thumb. "Let's go hunt. You will feel much better once you satisfy your lust.

He offered her his and she took it rather reluctantly.

She felt the same hungry feeling once again, the one that she now knew could only be satisfied by the warm taste of blood on her lips. She suddenly felt sharp fangs replace her canines. 'Blasted,'

"Ahem," she cleared her throat, making it known that she was about to speak.

"Mmm?" he asked, concentrating on melting the snowy path in front of them.

"Is there anyway to control these bloody fangs?" she asked rather rudely, they were bloody hard to get used to; they hurt the inside of her lips.

"Once you learn to control your cravings you will also learn to suppress the need to bear your fangs," he stated. They had reached the edge of the Forbidden forest.

"And how do you suppose I go about doing that," she asked trying to get over a particularly vicious bush of brambles.

"Stop thinking about blood," he stated simply and then noticing her trouble, smirked and moved the bush away with his wand.

"Thanks," she thanked quietly walking forward.

"Here, better stay close, these woods are dangerous," he offered her his arm again.

"I believe we are the ones making that statement true," she pointed out, taking his arm once again.

"Right," he smirked even broader, thinking of himself fondly.

'Arrogant, little arse,' she thought. She gazed at his stern features, 'Hmm, that smirks starting to grow on me…hm, who woulduh thought?'

"What?" he questioned noticing she was peering at him. She immediately averted her eyes. The shy Hermione was still lingering a bit.

"Nothing," she said lightly.

"Mmhm."

"Soo…" she started, she never was one to take to small talk. "What are we going to…" she trailed, trying to find the right word.

"Hunt?" he helped.

"Yes. Hunt," she agreed.

"Deer or Thestral, maybe some birds," he answered moving another bush out of her path.

"Oh, please not Thestral, I've gotten rather fond of them, besides Hagrid takes count of them, he'll know that it was a vampire if he finds the carcass," she gripped his arm a bit tighter when she went passed the shrub, it seemed to be growling at her.

"Good point, how about deer?"

"That sounds…lovely," she still didn't like the fact that she would be taking away its life, but it was either her life or its.

"Okay, well you just stand here," he unhooked his arm from hers and started rummaging through his pocket, "and watch."

"Gotcha," he muttered to himself withdrawing his hand and bringing forth a tiny silver object that looked somewhat like a whistle, but had three little holes, instead of one.

"What's that?" she asked referring to the tiny whistle.

"It's a siffler. It creates a very calming little melody that almost hypnotizes the animal you are calling for, in this case a deer, causing them to follow the sweet little hymn," he explained, pulled out his wand and tapped the siffler, while muttering a short incantation, no doubt telling which animal to call for.

"So you lure it into a false sense of security?"

"Precisely," he finished casting the spell and brought it to his lips, but waited because she knew that Hermione was about to say something.

"That's rather ingenious," she thought aloud, thinking of how much easier it made the job of retrieving blood.

"Quite," he agreed through the whistle. He then began to blow softly through the air hole in the siffler, and music immediately came pouring out in a melodic pattern. The sweet music was nothing that Hermione had ever heard before. It sounded as if it were coming from miles away, an angelic cry from the woods begging her to come to its side, but at the same time seemed to be so close, as if it were inside her. The siffler produced a divine tune of long sweet notes that drifted through the dark, cold forest. Draco shifted his fingers ever so slightly so a whole new set of notes came forth; Hermione guessed that this was to bring the deer even closer.

Finally the nose of a deer emerged, followed dull brown eyes that looked blurred and unfocused. The long slender neck and bodice were just as delicate as its face, as it wobbled out into the tiny clearing that Hermione and Draco were in.

Draco let out one last stream of notes, making the deer slow and then finally stopped, as the siffler grew quiet.

"C'mon on," Draco said quietly, motioning for Hermione to follow him up to the doe. She followed, and observed Draco's actions carefully. She watched him walk cautiously up to the graceful animal, which seemed to still have a glazed look over its eyes. He petted it affectionately behind the ears, while he leaned closer to its head. At first she thought he was going to bight it right there and then, but then Hermione realized that he was actually whispering something into its tiny ears. It was a beautiful tongue that seemed to role off Draco's lips, like it was something that was part of him.

As Draco continued to speak the strange language the deer's eye-lids seemed to get heavier and its legs weaker, until it finally fell over and lay gracefully on the floor legs sprawled out in front of it large body.

"Is it dead?" Hermione asked a bit shocked.

"No, just in a sort of trance. I told it to go to sleep," Draco explained. "Vampires never feast on the dead. And I should also tell you that you should never take the last drop of blood of anything."

"Why?" she asked curiously.

"Because if you take its last drop of blood, its death will be replaced by yours. So you will die, and it will live."

"Oh," Hermione whispered, trying to grasp the whole concept. "What was that language you were speaking?"

"It's an ancient language that is only know to vampires. I believe you will acquire the language within the next few days," he stated matter-of-factly.

"I'll know a language I haven't even learned?" she asked confused.

"Yes."

"How does that work?"

"It's just something that happens when you become a vampire. It's like," he pondered, "how fish know how to swim. You just know it," he explained.

"Hm, I've never read that in any book."

"Well, you wouldn't have had. It's only known to the vampire community."

"Hmm, that is—"but she stopped mid-sentence, for a sharp hunger pierced her stomach. "Ooh," she gasped, bringing a hand immediately to her abdomen.

Draco looked up at her cool gray eyes and smirked. "Time to drink," he stated and offered her his hand; she took it and knelt down beside him.

"Now, its not too hard," he explained. "Bring your fangs to its neck; right here," he gestured toward the area of its jugular vein, "and press down, so that your fangs break the surface of its necks. You got it?" he walked her through.

"Yes," she stated confidently.

"Then drink the blood until you are satisfied. I'm going to let you go first so we won't have to worry about you taking its last drop of blood."

She listened carefully, every word making her anticipate the taste of blood every second her lips weren't at the doe's neck.

"Now, are you ready?"

She nodded her head yes.

"Then, go ahead."

She carefully set her wand at her side, and let go of Draco's hand that she had been holding during his whole little speech, and placed her hands delicately on the side of the deer's neck. Hermione took one last look at Draco, who nodded reassuringly, so she slowly lowered her lips down to its skin. Finally feeling the warm fur on her lips, she closed her eyes, while she gradually opened her mouth, so her fangs could caress the smooth neck of the deer.

Hermione took a sharp intake of breath before she plunged her sharp teeth into the skin of the doe, letting its blood come forth. The red liquid sank into her very lips and filled her mouth. She drank the blood like it was the very air she breathed.

The more she drank, the less she felt that hungry pang deep down in her stomach. Her lust was finally being satisfied.

Taking one last draw of blood, she closed her mouth, and lifted head away from the, now, bloody neck of the once graceful looking doe. Hermione gazed at the almost limp body of the mammal, but not with sympathy, which would normally be etched in every corner of her face, but with satisfaction. Satisfaction that she had gone on her first hunt. Satisfaction that she had drank from the animals veins. Satisfaction that she had taken her first step in becoming a vampire—accepting what she was, by drinking its blood and not feeling an ounce of remorse about it. She was a vampire, and no one was going to change it—ever.

* * *

Anyway… reviews always appreciated!

The "there's no such thing as a bad decision, only different ones" is from the book A Great and Terrible Beauty by Libba Brey! But the rest is purely me, well except the whole fact that JKR owns the setting and the characters and pretty much everything else that you don't recognize from any of the wonderful 6 (soon to be 7!!!!) HP books!!!!


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